It's not my fault!
A/N: Just a little piece to bring everyone into the life of a bisexual (yeah, this is based on real life). It's not easy at all, and I don't know if everyone realizes that or not. I just want you all to be aware of the fear, shame, guilt felt before you go off and make fun of G/L/B/T's (although I'm sure you're all nice enough to not do that, right? ;D). If you have any questions/comments, post a review or email me at: JustCallMeEd@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, its characters, Glay or their song "Winter Again" (if I did, I'd be rich… x_x;;).
Realizations
"Woo! Alright, good game!" the coach announced enthusiastically. Takeru wiped his brow with the back of his hand, grinning. He gave a few of his teammates high-five before heading into the locker room from the court. Dumping his bag onto a bench, he pulled out his clothes and quickly began to change. He kept his head down, yet he desperately tried to keep his wandering eyes from glancing at any of the other boys. He shook his head and silently scolded himself.
"What the hell are you doing?" his mind screamed. "You'd much rather see Hikari than any of these guys!" Quietly, Takeru sighed and shrugged off the thought.
With backpack and gym bag slung over his shoulder, Takeru slowly boarded the bus with all the other players in single file. He tossed his bags into a seat mid-way back and plopped himself down.
"Oh, Takaishi!" He looked up. Standing in the aisle was his brunette friend, Daisuke. "Can I sit with you?"
"Yeah, sure." He shoved his bags onto the floor and slid to the inside of the seat. Daisuke sat down next to him, leaning his head back.
"That was a great game!" Takeru nodded. "You sure have an advantage at being pretty tall," Daisuke continued. "That save you made was awesome!" Takeru grinned.
"Thanks. You did good yourself." The conversation died then. Takeru leaned his chin on his hand as Daisuke put on earphones. He absent-mindedly stared out the window as trees and bushes flew by in a blur of colors. Faintly, he heard the coach announce where they were going to stop for dinner on the way home. The minutes slowly passed by. Ever so lightly, something brushed against the side of his thigh. Takeru nearly jumped in surprised and he looked to the cause -- Daisuke's hand, long slender fingers, and olive skin. He abruptly felt hot and nervous, and his pale cheeks turned pink. Again, a fleeting moment of contact. Takeru's heart raced. Just then he wanted to roughly take Daisuke by the shoulders and pull him into a kiss. But he sat there, rigid; he clasped his hands together tightly enough to make his palms sweat with unease. He stared out the window again.
"What's going on with me?" Takeru thought. "I could possibly… like Daisuke, could I? Oh my God… I think I do…. Why else would I be feeling this way around him?" He suddenly felt sick to the stomach. "I'm bi…." His head spun at his newly acknowledged fact. Acknowledged, yes, but certainly not welcomed. Guilt and shame and fear churned in his stomach. Self-hatred burned furiously. Why him? He wondered. "It's not my fault!" He silently screamed out to the world. People didn't choose to be bi or gay, right? He knew that he hadn't chosen to be this way, it just happened.
"Hey! Takaishi!" Takeru turned. "You like Glay?" He grinned.
"Yeah!" Daisuke handed him an earphone, keeping one for himself. Takeru hurriedly put it on. "Winter Again" blasted in his ear. He glanced at Daisuke and met his brown eyes. Again, guilt churned inside him. "God, he's gorgeous," the blonde thought, admiring Daisuke's olive skin that was stretched over his nicely toned muscles. He mouthed the lyrics, his head bopping. Takeru grinned and he, too, began mouthing the lyrics.
Upon arriving home, Takeru dumped his bags onto the floor, humming various Glay songs. He slowly made his way to his room, changed, then flopped onto his bed on his back. His thoughts wandered to Daisuke, and he felt giddy inside. A smile spread across his face. But he sighed sadly.
"I'm bi…I'm a queer," he whispered beneath his breath. Self-hatred brewed within him again. He worried, then. What would his friends think? Would they hate him? Maybe they would accept him for what he was…. And school, too. He knew that if word got around, his peers would most certainly persecute him. His family was something else, too. His mother would most likely accept it, but not his father. Who would want a queer son? His stomach plummeted. Thoughts and worries spun around in his mind in a dizzying, senseless swirl. Pulling the duvet over himself, he curled up on his side and stared at the wall. He felt safe there in his bed; he knew he would never be rejected there, but out in the world…that was different. A hot tear fell from the corner of his eye as a lump formed in his throat, and silently he cried himself to sleep.
I'm afraid of what you'll think of me.
I'm scared of what you'll say.
I feel so different, so left out,
Why couldn't I be normal?
Why can't I be the same?
That fatal day it came to me,
I realized what I was.
That night I cried myself to sleep
As I wondered what I'd say
To let you know how different I was
That I wouldn't be the same.
Again I lay alone in bed,
Hot tears begin to fall
And I start to hate myself,
Feeling sick at heart with shame.
Please don't laugh at what I am,
If you can't understand,
At least have some sympathy.